by Amy Ruttan
And she was also aware of Syman’s striking resemblance to certain members of the Kalyanese Royal Family, but she was annoyed that he was asking her who he was.
Had he expected her to use that money to get rid of her pregnancy?
If he had and wanted the money back, she could pay him. The money was still sitting in an account. She hadn’t spent a dime of his pity check.
“Who is the boy?” he asked again, his voice calm, but there was a hint of anger in there and that sent a shiver of dread through her.
“My son,” she stated. “Obviously.”
“Your son? How old is he?”
“Nine. Again obvious.”
Maazin’s eyes narrowed and then he looked away. There was no sense in hiding the fact that Syman was his. She guessed by his expression, his tone and the fact that Syman was nine that he knew. And there was really no denying it. Syman had the same dark, long curls as Maazin had once had and the same stunning eyes.
He didn’t say anything else to her, but she wasn’t surprised as the nurses returned to check on them, which was good because emotionally, right now, Jeena didn’t want to talk about it. She was afraid if she did she was going to break down and cry.
That was when her phone rang and Syman’s face popped back up on the screen. Maazin’s gaze locked on that picture.
Not now.
She had to answer it.
“Hi, Syman,” she said, answering the phone and feeling Maazin’s gaze boring into the back of her skull.
“Hi, Mom!” Syman’s voice came from the other end. “We won!”
“You won. That’s wonderful.”
“Yeah, I’m so excited to get to play at the Saddledome. Grandpa said he’s going to take me out for pizza.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“You okay, Mom? You sound a bit weird.”
“I’m okay. I’m here in Kalyana and you can tell your grandparents I’m okay.”
“Actually, Grandpa wants to talk to you.”
“No—” she began, but it was too late as Syman handed the phone over to her father.
“Jeena, are you okay?” her father asked.
She could hear the worry in her father’s voice. She remembered how troubled he’d been when he’d found out she was carrying Maazin’s baby. Her father had been so terrified Syman would be taken away or that they’d become outcasts.
“I’m okay, Dad. I’m fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I’m working now, though.” What she wanted to tell him was that Maazin was here and that he knew about Syman, but now was not the time.
“How bad is the damage?” her father asked. “Have you seen...? How much have you seen?”
Her father was asking about their plantation and whether she’d seen it. Even though her parents had left to protect her and even though her father insisted he didn’t care for his old plantation, she knew he did. She knew her father missed his home country.
“I’m outside Huban, in the southeastern district that was hit the worst. I really have to go, but I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Okay, Jeena. Be safe and avoid... Be safe.”
“I will, Dad.”
Her father had trailed off. She knew he’d been going to say avoid Lady Meleena and Maazin, but he hadn’t.
Jeena ended the call. She felt like she was going to throw up. This was not how she’d planned this trip to go. All she wanted was to do her job and then head back to Alberta to be with Syman and her parents.
She wanted to lie low.
The last thing she’d wanted to do was run into Maazin but, of course, karma had had other plans. The nurses finished with Maazin and they were left alone again. He wouldn’t look at her. He just stared ahead.
“Is he mine?” he finally asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them again.
“What do you mean, is he yours? Of course he is.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, one that had formed because of the tears she’d been holding back for so long. He acted like he didn’t know about Syman. Maybe he’d forgotten and that wouldn’t surprise her.
She and her unborn baby had been so insignificant to him, why would he give them a second thought?
“How can I be certain?”
“He’s nine years old and you were my first.” Jeena wanted to tell him that he was her only lover. That his betrayal of her, his abandonment when she’d needed him most had broken her so completely that she didn’t trust anyone else with her heart.
And she had her son to look after. There was no time for romance. All she had was school, Syman and her parents.
The people who mattered most.
“Why didn’t you tell me that I had a son?” Maazin asked.
Jeena snickered. “Really?”
“What do you mean, really? You obviously didn’t want me to know or you would’ve told me.”
Jeena rolled her eyes. How could she have been in love with someone so stubborn was beyond her. “Don’t be so precious. You knew. You’ve just forgotten.”
He opened his mouth to say more but the nurses came back and they removed her IV as she had finished her dose of antibiotics. After she was cleared to go, she slipped off the cot and left the isolation area. She wouldn’t be allowed to work on patients until she’d been clear for twenty-four hours and she was annoyed about that, but it came with the territory in emergency medicine. She walked out of the medical tent and made her way down to the beach.
The heat of the sun felt good on her skin. It was way better than the bitter cold Canadian winter that her mother still hadn’t gotten used to.
She sat down on the beach and closed her eyes, drinking in the Vitamin D and listening to the sound of the waves lapping gently on the pearl-pink sand. Her mind drifted back to the last time she’d sat on a pearl-pink sand beach like this.
“Jeena, you are so beautiful,” Maazin whispered against her ear.
A shiver of delight traveled down her spine and she couldn’t quite believe that he’d taken her out on his yacht to Patang Island for a private dinner.
There were no guards here.
It was just the two of them on the sandbar, under the moonlight, with the ocean wind caressing their skin.
She knew that he had a bit of a reputation, but he hadn’t been unfaithful to her. They’d been inseparable and she was so in love with him.
He kissed her again, cupping her face and making her melt into his arms. She was so in love with him that she couldn’t remember a moment of what life had been like without him.
Life had been so dull and colorless until she’d met him.
“Be with me tonight,” he whispered.
She nodded, and he scooped her up in his arms and took her to the private bower he’d built on the sandbar. Their own private retreat, where they were alone, with just the light from the moon reflecting on the ocean accompanying them...
“Jeena.”
She opened her eyes and shook the erotic memory from her mind.
She knew it was Maazin.
“I know you have a lot of questions, but since I can no longer work on patients for the next twenty-four hours I have to figure out a way back to where we’re being billeted and try to get some sleep.”
What she really wanted to tell him was that she didn’t have to time to play these games.
“I can take you there. I have my Jeep around back and maybe then we can have a meal together and we can talk about this in private.”
She stood up. “Of course, because you wouldn’t want a scandal.”
“No. It’s not that. It’s for your protection and for his. Besides, we’re the only two potentially exposed to the dysentery. We can’t afford others to be exposed. We need all the help in the hospitals tending to the injured.”
He was right.
And she felt silly. He was trying to offer her an olive branch and she was being cranky. She was better than this.
“Fine. I’d appreciate a ride.”
Maazin nodded. “My car is over this way.”
She followed behind. She knew it was for the best they talk this through, but she didn’t want to. What was in the past was in the past.
Or at least she thought it was.
* * *
Maazin wasn’t going to take her to the hotel where the relief workers were staying. Instead he was going to take her to his home. It was better that they didn’t expose anyone else to possible infectious dysentery.
He’d sent Kariff out to warn the other farmers and plantation owners in that area who used that water source to avoid using water from the creek and he ensured the palace was made aware of the dire situation and that bottled, safe water would be provided to all who needed it.
He didn’t say anything to Jeena as he drove back to Huban.
Thankfully he had also had a house that was not part of the palace. Maazin felt it was easier on his mother not to be under the same roof. So he’d chosen a colonial-built home just outside the city. He liked the privacy it afforded and what the two of them needed was privacy.
He was still in shock over the fact he had a son and he was going to find out who had kept this information from him and why. Maazin knew the mail and any correspondence to the royal family was monitored for their own safety, but he was so angry that someone could have done this.
His son.
His nine-year-old son. One that reminded him so much of his beloved brother Ali. Except the eyes. The eyes on that boy were his.
A son he didn’t deserve.
Ali’s family had been taken from him and it was a cruel twist of fate that he, the one responsible for Ali’s death, had a son.
“Where are we going? I thought the hotel was near the hospital?” Jeena asked, her voice rising in panic.
“It is, but I don’t think it’s safe that we stay close to the field hospital for the next twenty-four hours, so I’m taking you back to my place.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, I don’t think so! I’m not going to the palace. You need to stop this vehicle right now.”
“What is wrong?”
“I’m not going to the palace.”
“I never said we were.” And he couldn’t help but wonder why she was so worried about going to the palace.
“You said we were going to your home.”
“I don’t live in the palace.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “Right.”
“No, really I don’t. I bought a colonial home just outside the city. It was the old British consulate. It’s walled and gated, so pretty secure. My father thought maybe letting me have my own place would curb some of my less desirable behavior.”
“Did it?” she asked.
“No, not right away...” It wasn’t the house that had given him a taste of being a responsible adult, it was the unbearable heartbreak Jeena had caused him by leaving him without any explanation and Ali’s death.
Maazin had blood on his hands as far as he was concerned. And since Ali had died, he’d been trying so hard to right all his wrongs.
He hadn’t had a drop to drink for ten years, but right now he felt like getting drunk.
Jeena seemed to calm down again once he assured her that they weren’t headed to the palace. He turned off the main promenade that led to the palace and headed down the road toward the beach.
His home had sustained a bit of damage, but Maazin had made sure everything had been made secure when he’d known that the cyclone would definitely hit. He’d moved out all his staff and this was the first time he’d been back after Blandine. He’d been so busy with helping his people that he hadn’t even thought about his home.
He parked the Jeep and then hopped out.
“Where are you going?” Jeena asked.
“The power to the gate has been cut. All power is being diverted to essential services only. Luxury items like powered gates are not essential.” He unlocked the gate and then pushed on it to open it.
Once it was open he climbed back into the Jeep and drove it inside, then parked and repeated the process to close the gates.
He was relieved to see that only a few boards had been taken off and just one of the shutters was broken.
There were some fallen trees, but the larger ones still stood and no branches or trees had fallen on his house.
Jeena climbed out of the vehicle and looked at his home. “It’s nice. I like the cerulean blue. It reminds me of the ocean.”
He nodded. Pleased that she liked it. “It’s what I was going for. This place is peaceful and it’s nice to come here and not be a prince.”
“I’m sure it’s so very taxing.” She walked past him, her arms crossed as she looked all around his garden. He wasn’t sure if she was commiserating with him or being sarcastic, but had a feeling it might be a mix of the two.
And he didn’t care. He was going to make her a simple meal out of the supplies he had in the house and then he was going to find out more information about his son.
He climbed up the steps onto the covered deck and prised off the wooden boards and then unlocked the door.
“Right this way, Dr. Harrak.”
Jeena followed him into the hallway and he flicked on the light, glad he’d had back-up generators installed last year.
There was a bit of water pooling on the marble floor, but for the most part everything looked to be in the same place as before the cyclone had hit.
“Wow, so this was the British Consulate?”
“It was moved to downtown Huban, but this is where the British had a seat for many years. Colonialism at its finest. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable in the sitting room and I’ll see what I have to eat.”
Jeena nodded and found her way to the front sitting room. It was a cool room that he liked to use in the heat of the summer as it got breezes from the ocean and didn’t have the direct sun.
In the kitchen there were bananas, which had gone bad, on the counter, so he tossed them and cleaned up the marble counter top so as not to attract insects or vermin, and then he looked in the fridge, which was still running.
He had absolutely no idea what to make.
He might like his independence, but he had staff who cooked and cleaned for him. When he’d been in England for medical school, his father had made sure that he’d been well taken care of and had wanted for nothing.
Even when he’d been serving in Kalyana’s military and continuing his medical training to be an army surgeon, he’d had servants.
He knew how to make a few things, but he really didn’t want to make toast for Jeena.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, peeking into the kitchen.
“No. I... Fine,” he said, throwing up his hands. “I’m a pampered, coddled prince and I don’t know how to make you anything that might be slightly edible. I can make toast and a pot of tea. Would you like that?”
Jeena bit her bottom lip, trying not smile. He’d always found that endearing, but right now he was slightly annoyed.
“Let’s see what you have.” She padded over to the fridge. “You have enough to make a nice Greek salad. Tomatoes, feta and olives. Would you like that?”
“That sounds wonderful.” Now he was smiling and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Would you show me?”
“How to make a salad?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Sure.” She pulled tomatoes, cucumber, feta and olives from the fridge and then wandered over to the pantry and pulled out olive oil, vinegar and oregano. He hadn’t realized that he’d had all these things.
“Don’t you need lettuce?” he asked. “It is a salad.”
“If you want a traditional Gr
eek salad then you don’t have lettuce. You wouldn’t happen to have any lemons, would you?”
“Yes, here you go.” He handed her a couple. “Can we add lettuce too?”
“Why?” she asked.
“I like it and I think it might go bad soon.”
Jeena wrinkled her nose. “Okay, let’s see what we can salvage of it, but you know now it’s not a true Greek salad.”
“I’m sure I’ll survive,” he teased, pulling out the head of lettuce.
Jeena got to work and was washing the salad ingredients with bottled water. “Perhaps you should boil some water. If you’re under a boiled water advisory, it would be safe.”
“I have a lot of bottled water. I’m prepared for emergency situations. They wouldn’t let a prince living on his own be without the essentials.”
“Oh, good.” Jeena finished what she was doing and then pulled out a cutting board and knife. “Do you have a big bowl?”
“Probably,” Maazin said lightly. He went hunting through the cupboards until he found a large bowl. “Will this do?”
Her eyes widened. “That’s massive, I’m sure it’ll do.”
“Too big?” he asked, glancing at it.
“For the two of us, yes, unless you have someone else coming over?”
He noticed there was a hint of apprehension in her voice and he wanted to ask her what she was so afraid of. First she’d been afraid of going to the palace and now she was worried about who else could be coming.
Did she know about the arranged marriage?
Of course she does. Who in the world doesn’t?
The only thing people didn’t know about was how the engagement was off and he couldn’t tell anyone yet. He’d promised his father that. The people had loved Lady Meleena, or at least the idea of a fairy-tale wedding, not knowing that she was a spoiled and self-centered woman. Her father was from the Kalyanese dynasty, but they no longer lived in Kalyana and had made their home in Dubai. The last time Maazin had seen Meelena had been over a year ago. She’d been fed up that he’d chosen duty over her. But he’d never fancied Meleena. They’d been first introduced at that same polo match where he’d met Jeena, but the moment he’d seen Jeena all other women had paled in comparison...
